


Misunderstandings in a Car Crash

by Neeka



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heartbreak, Jumping to Conclusions, M/M, Mistakes, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, honestly this is why people need to talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-04 02:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neeka/pseuds/Neeka
Summary: Misunderstanding.[mis-uhn-der-stan-ding]Noun1. Failure to understand correctly; mistake as to meaning or intentWarning: Does not mix well with love and may lead to heartbreak





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drcloyd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drcloyd/gifts).



If you’d told Daryl even a year ago that one day he’d be ass over tit in love, he’d tell you to fuck off, whilst admittedly kind of hoping it was true.

Now all Daryl wanted to do was go back in time and punch his past self in the face for being a fucking idiot.

Turns out that love sucks and he’d rather have no damn part in it. It was confusing, it messed with his sleep, it made him want to puke and more than anything, it really, _really_ fucking hurts.

Because unlike in the damn movies, the people you love don’t always love you back.

Case in point; Paul and Aaron sitting on a blanket in the sun with little Gracie playing in front of them as they chatted, looking like the shiniest couple you could think of.

Daryl had kind of suspected this for a little while now if he was honest, but seeing it properly in front of him was like a damn knife in the ribs. He was an idiot for ever thinking it could go any other way.

But really, how else could it have unfolded for him? What else was he to do or think? Daryl had been drawn to Paul even at the start, back when he was still Jesus, even if Daryl refused to call him that on account of it being fucking dumb.

He hadn’t known what it was back then, that weird feeling in his stomach, the odd undercurrent of energy that sent him chasing after a thief in a field like a kid, just as it had him pacing about and staring once Paul was telling them about where he came from.

Daryl thought it was suspicion at first, that there was something dodgy about the guy that his instincts were picking up. It didn’t take him all that long to realise that was wrong, even if it took him longer to admit it. Then of course, everything that could possibly go wrong did, with added shit on top, leaving no room in his brain to think any further on it.

So colour him surprised when he saw Paul on the roof of that truck. Granted, he wasn’t the one to actually open the door of Daryl’s cell, but he’d stayed. He’d fully intended on risking his life to find Daryl and he _had_ been the one to help him leave, even after watching Daryl freak out and beat Fat Joey’s head in.

Daryl never could have expected how things would go from there. By all rights, Paul should have shoved him at the people already obliged to put up with him and washed his hands of the whole thing. But he didn’t.

Paul took him back to his own trailer and let him finally get clean, something he’d cherished a hell of a lot more since. He’d given him clothes, food, a place to actually _sleep_. More than that, he’d slowly but surely worked his way into Daryl’s life, seemingly without even trying.

They worked well together, Paul looked after Daryl’s family with a fierce protectiveness and he was almost freakishly capable. He was just so damn _nice_ too, kind even in the hell they were living through.

As the months went on and the shitty hits just kept on coming, Paul was always there, always working his ass off, always being strong and calm and caring. Granted, Daryl wasn’t best pleased with him once he’d found out about the Saviour POW’s, but by the time that had come to light, there were far bigger things on Daryl’s mind.

Alexandria had been bombed almost to the ground, the rest of them only getting out thanks to Carl, even as they nearly lost him in the process. They’d all limped, dejected but alive to Hilltop, welcomed in even as they were informed about what happened on the road with the Saviours. Hilltop would be their last stand.

After the meeting, Paul sought Daryl out straight away, taking one look at him and gently leading him into his trailer. Since then, the two of them had teamed up more often than not as they fought the last stretch of the war.

Daryl had a sneaking suspicion about what it was he actually felt towards the scout during that time, but he was happy to ignore it. However, when Paul nearly died saving Maggie in the last battle with Negan and the Saviours, he was forced to admit it, if only to himself.

He loved Paul.

Waiting with Maggie and Enid to see whether or not he would survive was one of the worst experiences of Daryl’s life, and he’d had more than his fair share of them. But by some fucking miracle, Paul survived and Daryl knew he wanted to be with him, wanted the chance to love and maybe even be loved by him.

For a while, he _actually_ thought he’d get that. Once Paul was well enough to leave the medical trailer and Carson’s care, Daryl finally got to pay him back for all the help he’d given him. Despite the other man’s grumbles, Daryl appointed himself to helping Paul heal, which was honestly a job he should have been awarded for. Turns out Paul was a terrible patient and simply getting him to stay still long enough to rest was a damn battle.

But all that time together gave them the chance to grow closer, to learn more about each other. Daryl just kept falling harder and didn’t even try to stop it.

Now Daryl wanted to go back and just plain _shoot_ that him in the head for getting his damn hopes up like an idiot.

By the time Paul was finally fully healed, eagerly throwing himself back into his damn ninja work outs and outrageously long lists of jobs, Daryl was fairly certain that they were both on the same page and just happy to meander their way slowly forwards.

Again; fucking idiot.

Because then, like some bad fucking sitcom, along came Aaron and the adorable Gracie.

God Daryl hated himself for even holding the slightest bit of bad feeling towards Aaron, especially with how much he meant to Daryl, but with his arrival, everything changed. Daryl couldn’t have known it then, but it was the beginning of the end.

After around two weeks in his new home, Aaron finally started coming out of his room in Barrington and socialising. Daryl was glad he was away from Alexandria, knowing it was just a ghost town of bad memories and the burned out skeleton of a house that used to hold so much love. Being in a new place would help him, just as much as taking over the parenting of Gracie already seemed to.

When Paul said he was going to go welcome Aaron and see if he needed anything, Daryl thought nothing of it, just getting the familiar warm rush of feelings that came from seeing Paul care about Daryl’s family. He came back half an hour or so later, said what a nice guy Aaron was, how Gracie was just delightful and that was that, Daryl and Paul heading out together to get dinner before they turned in for the night.

It started slow at first; just an hour here and there, then it was working together on a project or meeting up for dinner when Daryl was busy, until soon Paul was offering his help babysitting Grace when Aaron needed a break.

Once Daryl noticed the increased amount of time Paul spent with Aaron, he couldn’t _stop_. He also couldn’t help but notice that Paul acted very shifty when Daryl brought it up once after catching them talking quietly together on the picnic table outside the trailer, the two of them suddenly stoping talking as he came near.

Daryl had hoped it wasn’t what he thought it was, but looking at them now, he had no choice but to accept it. Paul and Aaron were obviously together. Daryl had missed his chance. And despite how much it hurt, because it really, really did, Daryl couldn’t even find it in him to be angry.

They looked happy.

Aaron was laughing at something that Paul had said, both of them watching Gracie giggle and play with her little stuffed bunny. Some sort of perfect family.

Yeah Daryl was surprised Aaron had moved on from Eric so quickly, part of him indignant on the dead man’s behalf, but he’d also hated seeing Aaron so depressed. He’d always been kind to Daryl, welcoming him before anyone else had, so if this made living easier, he could accept that.

And Paul? Well, he’d always deserved someone better than Daryl. He’d been fooling himself to think otherwise, no matter how it had seemed.

Chest tight and burning, Daryl turned away and left, unable to watch them together a moment longer.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of hard but not nearly distracting enough work, Daryl making sure he stayed far away from where he knew the two men to be and then carefully avoiding Paul once he was working on his own jobs again.

By the time night fell, Daryl had steeled himself for seeing Paul in their trailer. He’d also realised that he needed to back off, both for the new couple and his own sanity. But still, seeing Paul sat at their table, scribbling away in his notebook with his hair damp and tied up in a bun, hit him like a punch to the face.

Daryl had thought that one day he’d get to come back, come _home_ to this and greet Paul with a kiss. It was stupid and Daryl cringed at himself for how clearly he could see it, how many times he’d imagined it.

That wasn’t for him now. Those kisses belonged to someone else.

Daryl knew he practically ignored Paul’s greeting, grabbing his sleep clothes and retreating into the bathroom. He just couldn’t look at him right now.

Daryl wasn’t too proud to admit he hid in the shower for longer than normal, hoping the water would wash away the horrible ache in his chest. It didn’t though, and Daryl was fairly certain nothing would, not for a long time at least. Turns out heartbreak is just as bad as everyone said.

When he finally dragged himself from the shower, he changed and left the bathroom, forcing himself to keep it together. Even so, the soft smile and concerned eyes that were immediately on him took Daryl’s breath away.

“Hard day?”

Daryl just grunted, not trusting himself with words right now. Paul could always read him too well.

“You wanna talk about it? Anything I can do to help?”

“Nah, ‘s fine.” He dropped onto his little cot in the corner, staring at the ceiling.

“Are you sure? You don’t seem fine.” Paul sounded so sceptical, so kind and concerned that it knocked Daryl sick.

“Said I’m fine!” He snapped, desperate to not have to hear Paul’s voice. “Shut up an’ let me sleep yeah?”

“Oh. Sorry then, I’ll err, stop bothering you.”

Fuck Daryl hated hearing the shocked, hurt tone to Paul’s words, guilt flooding him even through his own hurt. From the corner of his eye, Daryl watched as Paul put his book to one side and turned off the light, plunging them into darkness.

Though no sound could be heard, Daryl knew neither of them slept for hours.

Daryl was the first out of the trailer the next morning, hoping to not have to speak to Paul, especially after last night. But he still found himself hesitating as he walked past the bed, chest burning once again at the sight of Paul sleeping.

For the rest of the day, Daryl worked himself stupid with every job he could find, hoping like hell he wouldn’t have to see or talk to Paul for as long as possible. They usually met for lunch but now that Paul and Aaron were more openly a thing, it wasn’t fair for him to take up that time.

Plus, if he stopped it first, maybe it’d hurt less than having Paul do it.

So he made himself scarce, leaving Hilltop completely on a hunt that basically just involved him wandering through the trees and trying to let the peace calm him down. It didn’t work but at least it got him out of the way of the happy fucking couple for a few hours.

He shot some rabbits and squirrels on his way back for appearances sake once the sun started setting, taking them straight to the kitchens, inwardly sighing as he spotted Martha. He never escaped quickly when she was there, the old gal always wanting to talk or feed him up more.

“Oh so that’s where you been boy!” She said, eying his meagre catch. “Jesus was lookin’ all over for ya.”

Daryl just scoffed, a muttered “yeah right...” under his breath.

Martha smacked him with her dishcloth. “Don’t you be mumblin’ at me kid. And you know damn well it’s true. Poor boy looked mighty disappointed you weren’t around, moping about like a basset hound. That new guy with the kid kept him company eventually. Real cute little girl she is and very fond of poor Jesus’ hair. In fact I thi-“

“Gotta go,” Daryl just about managed to growl out, turning on his heel and leaving, even as he knew he’d get his ass kicked for being rude sooner or later. He just couldn’t bare to hear anymore of that sentence right now.

It was almost dark as he headed back to the trailer, the stars beginning to poke through the clear night sky, just the smallest shade of light blue left as the sun finished disappearing.

“Hey Daryl.”

Oh for fucks sake.

Daryl looked up at Paul, sat on their roof in a blanket with a warm but hesitant smile on his face that slowly dropped as Daryl didn’t answer.

“Erm, do you want to come sit with me for a bit? It’s a lovely night.”

Daryl was pretty sure even his fucking bones were hurting by now. The two of them had spent so many clear nights sitting or lying on the roof of their trailer, either chatting or just relaxing in silence.

Daryl has always thought it was quite romantic. He shuddered at his own stupidity.

He managed to grunt out a negative, looking away from Paul and stomping into the trailer, throwing his stuff down and sitting on his bed. Not three seconds later, Paul opened the door with a frown, having jumped off the roof as silently as always. Could Daryl not catch a single fucking break tonight?

“What’s the matter with you huh? And don’t say nothing, I know you.”

Nah, he obviously didn’t.

“Look,” Paul tried again, quieter as he moved to stand closer to Daryl, hands doing that little nervous tick Daryl had noticed long ago. “Is it something I’ve done? You just... you seem like you’re avoiding me or pissed with me. Have I done something wrong?”

Seeing Paul look so unsure, Daryl realised something. He couldn’t stay here. If he did, he was afraid of how he’d end up, if he’d turn into a bitter, nasty bastard. He loved Paul, it’s true, but that’s no excuse for being a dick to him just coz he doesn’t love him back.

And Aaron, fuck, he’s one of Daryl’s closest friends that wasn’t already family. He’d welcomed him, helped him and Daryl couldn’t stand the thought of fucking resenting him or something. It wasn’t fair on him.

If he stayed, if he watched them together as he felt now, Daryl knew there was a chance he could get mean. He needed time to cool off, to get used to the idea and accept it. It was the only way he had a chance of still getting to be friends with either of them.

“I’m leaving,” he blurted out, eyes focusing on his boots and not Paul. “I’m going back to Alexandria, stay with Rick for a bit.”

There was no sound in their trailer but breathing. Daryl risked a glance up and wished he hadn’t; Paul looked shocked and worse, hurt.

“What?”

Daryl did not like that voice, Paul sounding like Daryl leaving was a bigger deal than it was, like it meant something to him. Daryl knew by now he obviously had a gift for looking too deep into things and everything Paul said or did just twisted the knife further.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, doing everything he could to appear unaffected. Like it wasn’t anything serious, hoping Paul would follow his lead. “‘Bout time I went back. Rick said he could use my help, last I saw him.”

He hadn’t, but Daryl knew it was true in any case.

“Oh. Right. I thought- well,” Paul broke off, arms folding over his chest like they always did when he was uncertain but didn’t want to seem it. “Guess I just thought you liked it here is all. At Hilltop and _here_ , with... with me.”

God Daryl hated that he sounded like it meant something. “Yeah I did. Jus’ time to move on now. Ain’t no big deal.”

Paul looked pained for a moment before he plastered on a small and fairly forced looking smile. “Gonna be weird not having you around. Spent so much time with you over the past few months.”

A thought came to Daryl then, one he wasn’t all that happy about. After Paul had recovered and things started to settle, Daryl had been in a state. His PTSD or whatever seemed to hit all at once, everything he’d been feeling that he’d put on hold till the war was over, till Paul was better, till Hilltop was doing okay, all came flooding in.

Paul had stuck by him through it and having the other man around helped Daryl immensely, helped him sort himself out at last. Paul had always been incredibly observant so he must have realised hanging around helped Daryl. Maybe he thought Daryl still needed that. Maybe he’d just hung around lately because he felt obliged or something.

He hoped it wasn’t the case, never having thought so before, but as recent events had proven so spectacularly, Daryl obviously didn’t know how to read this whole damn situation. Well, best put Paul’s mind at rest then. Let him be free to spend his time with Aaron instead and not feel guilty for leaving Daryl.

“I’m grateful for that yeah? For everythin’ you done.” Paul looked slightly confused at Daryl’s words, but he soldiered on. “But I don’t need that no more. Don’t need y-”

Daryl cut himself off, realising that with his current emotional state, that probably came out harsher than he really meant it. But it was too late, Paul had obviously caught on to what he was going to say.

“You don’t need me.”

Daryl said nothing, hating how flat Paul sounded. He wanted to clarify, to speak plainly and say he was happy for him and Aaron, he just needed to get out of the way. That he’d miss every second he didn’t spend with Paul. That he _always_ needed him.

But he couldn’t, he didn’t have the words. Maybe he could say it after this clean break, when he’d found some way to accept it and deal with it.

Daryl watched then, with a dull kind of grief, as the mask Paul had long abandoned with Daryl fell over his face again. They were physically no further apart but in a matter of seconds, Paul had gone far away from him.

“Right. Well, it was nice having you here Mr Dixon. Hilltop will miss you.”

Pain pulsed in Daryl’s chest, Paul sounding like Jesus again, Hilltop’s scout and emissary as he stepped back and turned to the door. “I’ll leave you to your packing. It’s a beautiful night, be a shame to waste it.”

And then he was gone, door shutting behind him and leaving Daryl alone in their trailer. No, it was just Paul’s trailer now.

Daryl stood up, body weighed down with heartache even as his muscles pushed him to do something, too full of nervous energy. He busied himself packing the essentials he’d need, trying very hard not to think about where Paul had gone and who’d he’d be spending the beautiful night with instead of wasting it on Daryl.

The rest of the night passed slowly and silently. Paul never reappeared before Daryl finally managed to drift off into a restless sleep.

Daryl left the trailer the next morning at dawn. Paul’s bed was still empty. He didn’t look back as he walked towards the gates, not wanting to see the trailer or the rest of Hilltop. He’d leave out the goodbyes. Daryl knew Paul would tell Maggie he’d gone and he was sure he’d be back eventually. For now, he just needed to get away.

He collected his bike from the makeshift garage and nods to the guard at the gate, finally speeding off towards Alexandria. Daryl hoped he’d leave the aching pain in his heart behind him too, but he suspected that’d be with him a long while yet.


	2. Chapter 2

As he stood in the doorway of his old attic room, Daryl couldn’t help but feel like some sort of dejected teenager. One who’d left home to go out into the world; to earn their fortune, find the love of their life, all that movie bullshit, only to utterly crash and burn, scampering back to their parent’s house with their tail between their legs.

Fucking hell. He’d only been back in Alexandria for about fifteen minutes and already he was back to feeling as small and out of place as he always had. Daryl never would have thought that he’d end up feeling the most at home in a place like Hilltop, but that was exactly how it’d panned out.

Though he’d judged the people as soft at first, it turned out to be nothing more than the contagious cowardice their so called leader seemed to fucking spew everywhere he walked. Under someone like Maggie, they’d flourished in a way that suggested they always had that bravery inside them, they just needed the chance to show it, for someone to tell them they _could_ fight and not just stay under the boots of a tyrannical psychopath.

It didn’t take Daryl long to see how damn hard they all worked, in vastly different ways and areas than Alexandria. They planted and harvested their own food, they raised livestock, they kept their trailers and equipment going with a mix of jury-rigging, duct tape and fucking _prayers_.

Honestly, once he started to look closer, Daryl recognised so many familiar things from where he’d grown up. The quiet, unrelenting hard work of people like Earl and Martha, the mishmash of homes and the fact that everyone had ways of making ends meet, some of which bordered that thin line between stupid and genius.

Compared to the old perfection of Alexandria, the way it had seemed so pristine and untouched by the end of the damn world, it was no wonder he found himself fitting in so much better at the colony.

Sure, Alexandria was hardly the same place it was before the war, but those old feelings of inadequacy and otherness started sticking to Daryl’s skin all over again. He hadn’t even been gone a day and already Daryl missed the cluttered trailer and everything that came with it.

The past few days had certainly been educational. Daryl now knew how heartbreak _and_ homesickness felt.

Daryl dropped down onto the mattress on the floor with a sigh. Rick had been surprised to see him, especially as the last time they’d been together, Daryl had all but said that he belonged at Hilltop. Sure he hadn’t been all gooey about it, but Rick knew him well enough by now to understand how serious he was, how much he viewed that place as his home.

When he’d turned up with a rucksack and a storm cloud over his head, Rick knew straight away something had happened. Daryl said he’d be staying for a while and though Rick looked concerned, he’d thankfully dropped it and just welcomed him back into his home. Daryl had hoped he’d at least be able to feel some comfort from being there again but he just didn’t. Nothing felt, looked, sounded or smelled right. It wasn’t _his_.

But then again, neither was the trailer. Neither was Paul. Daryl would just have to learn to live with it.

“Dawyl!”

The quick stomp of tiny feet was the only warning Daryl got before a little body jumped on him. “Heya Lil’ Asskicker. You gettin’ big huh?”

That at least, Daryl could get used to. He’d missed the little girl like crazy, the two of them having made the most unlikely bond from literally the day she was born. The familiar feeling of being used as a climbing frame whilst also listening to fast, childish babble, brought him the first measure of peace he’d felt in a while.

“I see she’s got you back under her thumb already huh? How long was that, three seconds?”

Daryl managed to raise his head and saw Carl stood in the doorway, somehow even taller than the last time he’d seen the teenager. “You try holdin’ out against them eyes an’ then we’ll talk.”

“Hey! I do it all the time!”

Daryl grinned with a shake of his head. “Bullshit. She owns all of us an’ we all know it.”

“Bullshit!”

Daryl and Carl just stared at each other in horror at the joyful shout from above Daryl’s head. Oh shit.

“Woah no no, that’s a bad word kid. Ya don’t wanna be sayin’ that okay?”

“Bullshit!”

“Erm Carl, a little help?” Daryl begged nervously. He knew damn well who’d be getting skinned if Rick, or more importantly _Michonne_ , heard Judith repeating that.

“Yeah, kind of forgot to mention she’s at that repetition age. Gotta be careful what you say coz I can promise from experience, she’ll pick the worst time to repeat it. She know’s what she’s doing too.”

“Bullshit!”

“Right, that’s it!” Daryl growled as he tucked the little girl under his arm and stood up. Her laugh filled the room and soon turned to excited shrieks as he carefully tilted her upside down, his hands holding each of her ankles as she swung freely.

She giggled madly, always so trusting that Daryl would never drop her. He’d damn well wiggle her about though, unable to stop his grin as she shrieked like she was on a rollercoaster.

“And what exactly are you doin’ to my daughter?”

Daryl looked up and saw Rick watching them with a raised eyebrow. “Nothin’ she don’t deserve,” he said as he gave her one last wiggle before he slowly lowered her to the floor, letting her stand on her head for a second before he finished putting her down.

She just grinned up at all of them from flat on her back and Daryl saw the flash of mischief on her face a second too late.

“Bullshit!”

With the absolute conviction of someone who knew that _technically_ something they’d done wrong wasn’t their fault, Judith just jumped up and ran to stand behind her daddy. Who judging by his expression, knew exactly who was to blame for his daughter’s newest word.

“Well Daryl, it’s good to have you back.”

“Err, I can explain?”

But Rick just smiled. “No need, it’s not your fault ya didn’t know she’d repeat anythin’ you said. She’s a sponge.”

Daryl shot a confused glance at Carl, who was also staring at his dad in indignant shock. Rick picked Judith up and gave her a kiss before he turned back to Daryl.

“Now that you’re here, do ya mind helpin’ out with some things?”

Daryl just nodded, still confused but not eager to look this particular gift horse in the mouth. “Yeah sure.”

Rick grinned. “Great.”

It wasn’t until he’d finally finished a long day of truly horrific, back-breaking, thankless, unending and downright _inhuman_ tasks that Daryl realised he’d been had.

He walked back into the Grimes’ house, body aching in ways it hadn’t for a long ass time and flipped the bird at the grinning faces of Rick and Michonne. Assholes.

Though admittedly, he didn’t say it out loud. Judith was in the room. Daryl could have sworn she was laughing at him too, the little traitor.

He all but threw himself in the shower, groaning as the hot water soothed his aching muscles. He didn’t take too long though, since something smelled damn good in the kitchen, Michonne’s lasagne if he wasn’t mistaken. It wasn’t until he walked into his bedroom and subconsciously looked around for Paul that it hit him again.

Fuck. With how busy the day had been, he’d almost forgotten about the reason he was in Alexandria. It wasn’t just some visit to his family before he returned back home. This was it, at least for now. Even if he returned to Hilltop that very night, nothing would be the same now.

The crushing knowledge that the life he’d had and the life he’d so desperately hoped for, was over, sent him slumping onto his mattress again, appetite gone.

Daryl had no point of reference when it came to the whole situation. He’d never been in love before, never felt the amount of things he did whenever he looked at Paul, talked to him, thought of him. And now he had no idea what to do with the fact that it was over for him before it ever even began.

Yes couples broke up all the time, but Daryl couldn’t help but feel like if Aaron and Paul had gotten together, they must both have meant it seriously. There was a damn kid involved for fucks sake. Daryl also vividly remembered the first night he and Paul spent talking on the roof of their trailer, flat on their backs and staring at the stars.

They’d talked about many things that night, the topic of conversation flowing so naturally and easily that Daryl could hardly believe it was him talking. At some point, relationships had come up and Paul had quietly admitted that the only relationship he wanted to get into next, was one to stay. Real love that meant something, that would be permanent.

Daryl had thought it could be him.

Now he could see how wrong he was and it broke his heart each time he remembered something he’d gotten confused, some sign he thought he saw. Daryl could read a scene of tracks and know exactly what went on; who stepped where, what direction an animal was going in, anything. But apparently hearts were a lot harder to understand.

Daryl scrubbed at his eyes as their prickling got worse.

“Err, Daryl?”

He looked up at Rick as he paused cautiously at the door. “You okay? ‘S time for dinner.”

The thought of going down and seeing the Grimes family together made him feel nauseous. Even before he’d left he’d felt like an add on to them, through no fault of their own of course. He just wasn’t a part of their family in that way. With his long absence and the way he felt, it was a disaster waiting to happen.

“‘M tired, just gonna sleep instead.”

Rick hesitated and Daryl could practically see him itching to ask more. But thankfully, Rick knew him by now, knew not to push just yet. Instead he just threw Daryl a reassuring nod, one that said Rick knew more was going on and that he had Daryl’s back, even if he didn’t want to talk yet. It was rare that they couldn’t read each other like books after all this time.

“Alrigh’ then. We’ll save ya some leftovers though. See you tomorrow.”

Then he turned and left, Daryl alone once again in the boxy attic, shoved away like some broken object nobody wanted.

The night passed slowly, too many thoughts ran through his head, too many feelings. When at last he fell asleep, he dreamt of wonderful things, comforting things, of love and a home. If he woke up with wet cheeks, well, nobody was around to know but him.

The sounds of Alexandria waking up as they began their day eventually convinced him to move, much as he’d rather stay in his room all day. After a strong cup of coffee and a quick talk with Rick over what he could help with, the list thankfully not pure torture after Daryl had been forgiven, they headed out of the house and on with their days.

Daryl threw himself into it once more, but the downside of not being on Rick and Michonne’s shit list was that he’d finished far earlier than he’d have liked, nothing but a whole stretch of evening ahead of him. He knew hunting would be absolutely pointless, his mind too abuzz and his body unsettled, so with no other options that didn’t involve him being social, Daryl headed up to keep watch.

For an hour Daryl had peace, nothing to do but chain smoke and stew in his own bullshit as he tried very hard to not focus on what he would be doing in Hilltop on an evening like this.

He did anyway. They’d either take a walk and drop in on Maggie or Daryl would hang back and watch as Paul flitted around the people of Hilltop and checked on everyone. Then they’d get food and wordlessly swap the bits of whatever that night’s dinner was that they knew the other didn’t like before heading back to their trailer.

Simple maybe, nothing particularly special. But each evening had meant the world to Daryl.

He heard her before he saw her, stomping up the ladder with her usual grace. “Hey Daryl, what’s up?”

Tara smiled at him, even after he simply grunted a greeting, not in any kind of mood to socialise. Daryl felt her stare at him as she stood beside him but carried on ignoring her until finally, she nudged him.

“What’s the matter with you huh? You’re all, moody and shit. I mean, you’re kinda always moody but you’ve been like, better ya know? Since everything finished and you moved to Hilltop. You just seem like... _more_ moody now...”

“This goin’ anywhere?”

She punched him in the arm. “Fuck you Daryl, I’m trying to be nice.”

“Well don’t.”

She just sighed and silence thankfully fell again. Unfortunately, he knew Tara well and silences never tended to last long around her.

“So how come you’re back then? Trouble in paradise?”

Daryl choked. “Huh?”

“Yeah,” she continued, blissfully unaware of the thin ice she was on. “You just seemed pretty okay over there, happy even. So since you’re here looking like a bulldog sucking piss off a nettle, I gotta assume something happened. Something with hippy dippy dickhead maybe?”

Daryl glared at her. “Hey, fuck off an’ give it a rest yeah?”

Tara looked taken aback by his growl for a moment, before she just nodded and looked back out over the gate. “Sorry. I know he’s really not all that bad.”

Oh for fucks sake, Daryl just wanted to leave or for her to shut up. Every time he even _thought_ about Paul hurt, having to hear someone talk about him was torture.

“Look,” she began, quiet and serious. “He’s a good guy. Did I hate him for a while? Yeah. But I know what he did had it’s benefits. And more than that, he saved Maggie and he’s helped you. Me and you both got caught up in all that for a while and fuck knows where we’d have ended up if we were just left to it.”

Tara paused and snuck a glance at him. Daryl simply tried not to implode.

“What I’m saying is it’s a good thing he was there. And that he’s here now. For you.”

Daryl couldn’t help but look at her and then wished he hadn’t. She knew, he could just tell. Fuck he must have been obvious, must have followed Paul around like a crushing school kid or something. The thought made him cringe further.

“Don’t look like that Daryl. We don’t get many chances to be happy in this life, to find somewhere we fit and someone we fit with. So whatever happened, go back and fix it okay? You’ve been happier than I’ve ever seen you. Don’t let that go now, not after everything.”

Daryl just exhaled the smoke in his lungs and stubbed out the finished cigarette. He couldn’t even find it in him to snap at her, he was just too tired and too hurt.

“Nah,” he sighed, voice flat and resigned. “Weren’t me who did that.”

Then he walked past her, ignoring the look that he glimpsed on her face as he climbed the down ladder. His shift was over in ten minutes, he could skip out early just once. All Daryl wanted to do was go back to his room and try to sleep.

Unfortunately, he’d gotten three steps into the hall of the Grimes’ house before his knees were accosted by a blur of blonde curls.

“Dawyl! Food ready!”

Daryl tried to gently pry her from him, giving excuses to avoid eating with everyone, but she just looked up at him with those damn eyes and grabbed his hand, all but dragging him into the dinning room.

“Hey Daryl, you eating with us tonight? Feels like I’ve hardly seen you. Not to mention you left my lasagne last night.”

Daryl couldn’t help but shrink under Michonne’s gaze until he just nodded with a sigh, accepting the plates she shoved at him and her order to set the table.

In the end, dinner was pretty much what he’d expected, a sort of bittersweet event. Yeah he loved seeing his brother with Michonne, the two of them so perfectly matched that it was insane they only found each other after the end of the damn world, but at the same time, it stung.

Because he’d wanted that too. Daryl didn’t ask for much, he never had, he’d just wanted that _one_ thing.

Still, Judith throwing a slice of carrot that stuck to Carl’s face after he dared interrupt her jabbering story, brought a brief smile to his face.

“You okay Daryl? You seem off.”

Daryl looked up at Michonne’s concerned face and just nodded, happy to avoid talking for as long as he could. She let it go after a moment of staring at him, like she could read his damn mind or something.

The second everyone finished eating, Daryl offered to wash up, anything to keep him out of their way. He wasn’t sure how many more concerned glances he could catch Rick and Michonne give each other.

He was nearly finished when he felt something by his knee again. He looked down and saw Judith staring back at him, her face unusually solemn.

“You okay kid?”

She shook her head, prompting Daryl to dry his hands and pick her up. “What’s the matter?”

Judith paused, seeming to think before she looked at him, her blue eyes going right through him.

“Why you sad?”

The worry in her voice shocked him for a second, just as it surprised him that she’d noticed. But she was always observant and could always read him well despite her age.

“What you talkin’ about girl? I ain’t sad, don’t worry ‘bout me yeah?”

Daryl meant to reassure her, but all it seemed to do was bother her more. She wriggled against him, her bottom lip jutting right out.

“Why you sad?” She asked again, more insistent before she leaned back to look him over better. “You hurt?”

Daryl sighed, he knew from experience he’d have to answer her somehow. She always hated it when someone didn’t answer her and would throw a fit until they did. Besides, it was always easier for him to talk to the little girl, which probably didn’t say anything good about his emotional maturity.

“Yeah, s’pose I am. In here.” He pointed at his chest

“Your heart?”

“Yeah kid. No big deal though okay, don’ worry.”

Judith looked sad before she snuggled forward into his neck, her little arms squeezing him tight. Daryl wasn’t too proud to admit a few tears may have escaped him then, as he stood in his best friend’s kitchen and hugged the little girl to him.

“Judith, come put your toys away!”

Rick’s voice came from just outside the door and Judith’s annoyed little groan somehow brought a smile to Daryl’s face. “Go on kid, do as ya daddy says.”

She grumbled as he put her down, but finally unlatched herself from his neck with a quick peck to his cheek. Fuck he loved that little girl.

Daryl scrubbed at his eyes with a sigh as he turned back to finish the pots. At least he’d get to be around her more. When he’d finally finished, he stomped through to the living room, hoping to sneak past everyone on his way to his room. But to his surprise, nobody was there. The front door was open though, letting in the cool night’s breeze and he could just about hear footsteps above him.

He figured he’d make use of the emptiness whilst he could, sinking onto the comfy but overly fancy couch with a groan. Daryl tilted his head back against the cushions to stare at the ceiling and listened to the night’s sounds.

The peace didn’t last long though. Daryl knew Rick’s footsteps by heart now, though the light clinking that accompanied it made him look up as the man came inside, gently kicking the door shut behind him.

Rick silently put down the cardboard box full of various alcoholic drinks on the coffee table and sank onto the couch next to Daryl.

“The hell’s this?”

Rick just reached in the box and pulled out two beers, handing Daryl one.

“Tonight, we’re getting drunk.”

It didn’t take a genius or someone who could read Rick as well as Daryl could, to tell that Rick knew what was wrong, or at least had the bare bones of it.

The knowledge should have embarrassed or angered him, but Daryl just didn’t have the energy anymore, or the space for any other feelings. So fuck it.

The fact that he simply accepted the beer told Rick he was right, the other man just nodding with a sympathetic look as the two of them sat back against the cushions in silence.

They didn’t say a word to each other until they finished three beers each and moved onto the half full bottle of rum. A very familiar bottle of rum in fact; Daryl had got it for Tara a couple of runs ago. God, had there been a damn whip round for alcohol donations or some shit?

But yet again, he was kind of beyond caring at that point. He just cracked it open and took a swig, the kind of swig where he basically fully accepted his possible demise in the morning, before he passed it on to Rick. They were both well beyond tipsy and heading into drunk, everyone’s alcohol tolerance was shit these days.

“So,” the other man cleared his throat and drank, not looking at Daryl. “I need to go to Hilltop with a crowbar?”

Daryl scoffed bitterly. “Nah, ain’t no point. Wouldn’ change nothin’.”

“Oh I don’t know, might change a few bones.”

Daryl accepted the bottle back and took another swig to wash down the lump in his throat.

“Ain’t his fault,” Daryl said quietly, fully aware that he was admitting to a lot of things out loud for the first time with those three words alone. “Just read shit wrong I guess.”

Rick didn’t make a big deal out of it though, just nudged his foot. “If it were even half of what I saw, then nah, ya didn’t.”

Daryl picked at the skin around his fingers to distract from his burning eyes. He felt like a fucking kid.

“Guess I just ain’t Aaron then.”

Rick coughed on his drink as he leant forward, voice full of indignant anger. “What the _fuck_?!”

“Yep.”

Rick sat back again in shock. “Gotta say I’m surprised. That came outta nowhere.”

Daryl sighed as he looked down at his hands again, voice quiet. “Yeah, ya tellin’ me.”

Daryl’s throat closed up when he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. His eyes stayed resolutely on his hands though, not trusting himself to meet Rick’s eye.

“I’m sorry Daryl,” he said, voice sad. “To hell with both of em.”

Then he removed his hand and passed Daryl the bottle again. Nothing more was said as they polished it off between them, there was no need and moreover, no point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, more delicious angst for you my friends! We’re gunna work for this ending! Honestly, i’m currently withdrawing off some of my meds right now so if i’m suffering, you can bet your arse I’m gunna make you all suffer with me! It’s also one of the reason for the delay, so I am sorry about that!
> 
> Also, the chapter count may move up to 4 instead of three. It shouldn’t drag the upload time out any longer, it’s just not quite flowing right. So I hope that’s okay!
> 
> Leave me a comment to let me know what you thought, all the others really made my day so thank you for that :) hope you all enjoyed it! Xxxx


	3. Chapter 3

Upon being jettisoned into the waking world, Rick noticed a few things in sharp succession.

First, that he and Daryl had passed out on the couch at some point, after not a single drop of alcohol remained. Second, his brain seemed to be attempting to crawl out of his scull and he was slightly afraid that if he moved too much, the rest of his organs would follow. Third, Carl and Michonne were moving around the kitchen with _far_ more noise and gusto than they ever had before.

A groan of absolute agony came from somewhere near his elbow, prompting Rick to move his head and fully take in the huddle of hungover mess that the two of them were. Daryl had slumped to the side at some point, half of his body still straight whilst his torso and head ended up folded near Rick’s hip and elbow. Rick also realised that he’d fallen sideways too and ended up half lying on Daryl.

Rick knew already that once they both started to move, their backs would hate them and let them know it with a vengeance.

“Think ’m gonna puke.” Rick managed to groan out, earning him a scoff.

“Pussy.”

“Oh like you’re much better asshole.”

“‘M a fuckin’ redneck, was drinkin’ ‘fore ya could walk.”

Rick scoffed in return, though it made his brain feel like it was exploding, putting on an exaggerated accent. “Oh ‘m a redneck, I drink beer, eat the bottles an’ shit fuckin’ nails.”

Daryl delivered a sharp elbow to his side that made them both groan. After a couple of gingerly delivered punches, they eventually managed to get themselves upright, both swearing as their backs finally registered the position they’d slept in. Fuck they were getting old.

“You good?” Rick asked after a moment.

Daryl froze for a second but nodded, avoiding his eyes. “Jus’ a hangover, ain’t gonna kill me.”

Daryl knew Rick wasn’t asking about the hangover, but he let it be. Like always, they hadn’t said a lot last night but what they did say spoke volumes. If Daryl wanted to leave it there, then Rick wouldn’t force him to say anything more.

Rick found that despite the hangover, his anger was still there, still churning under the surface. He wouldn’t let Daryl know of course, it was the last thing he needed, but Rick would love to strangle that fucking asshole.

Honestly, he was shocked. He wasn’t kidding last night when he said it came out of nowhere. Since the war finished, and even before that really, Rick was sure Jesus only had eyes for Daryl. He was a damn cop for God’s sake, he knew how to read people.

Daryl seemed to take longer to figure things out, but Rick knew him and he could see when things started to change. Rick knew for sure when he saw Daryl run to Jesus as the other man bled out after saving Maggie, pure terror and panic on his face.

They were pretty much joined at the hip after that and Rick would have put good money on them eventually ending up together. It just made sense and Rick wasn’t the only one who thought so, pretty much everyone who knew them could see their bond and how well matched they were. Though it wasn’t obvious up front, they both had strong similarities and where they didn’t, they complimented each other instead.

So to hear that Jesus had apparently changed his mind and gone for Aaron? Well, that just completely threw him. Rick also knew that Aaron had noticed the thing between Jesus and Daryl ages ago, so for him to forget that or just not care really was a surprise.

Not to mention moving on from Eric so quickly. Rick really didn’t want to judge him, they were friends after all, but if this was some sort of desperate, grief stricken rebound that fucked up Daryl and Jesus’ chances, then Rick would _not_ be happy.

Rick had seen Daryl in a variety of states, but last night was something entirely new. Rick never expected to see what heartbreak looked like on his brother’s face.

Another loud round of banging pans and giggles echoed in from the kitchen, Rick and Daryl both groaning as the noise jackhammered their brains.

Daryl looked over at him, eyes squinting against the wide open curtains which had _definitely_ been shut last night. “How agains’ killin’ em are ya?”

“At the moment?” Rick forced out through gritted teeth. “Not very.”

They had a few moments of quiet then, both trying to breath through their suffering, before it was unceremoniously broken by a blonde blur running through.

“Daddy, Dawyl!”

They both moaned, Daryl motioning for her to quieten down. Rick could tell from her truly evil grin however, that she had been specifically instructed to be as loud as possible.

“Made breakfast!”

They both looked at each other. “Maybe they get a pass this time?”

Daryl seemed to think it over for a second, Judith waiting on his every word like always, before he sighed and winked at her.

“Fair enough. Can’t get up though. Think you can help Lil’ Asskicker? How’s them muscles?”

She flexed her skinny little arms with a growl before reaching out and grabbing Daryl’s hands. Rick couldn’t help but grin as he watched his brother with his little girl, groaning exaggeratedly as she ‘pulled’ him off the couch. She cheered at her victory and though the noise was louder than their heads really wanted, it was the best kind of remedy.

Rick heaved himself up and together, the two of them staggered into the dinning room, Judith running ahead to brag about her feat of strength.

Michonne whistled when she saw the state of them both, Carl laughing obnoxiously about ‘old people’. Cheeky little shit.

“Wow boys, I’m actually in pain just looking at you.”

Daryl flipped her off and headed straight to the table, unceremoniously chugging half a pitcher of water. Rick gave her a quick kiss to the cheek, ignoring her light hearted judging before he too sat down.

Breakfast was a far more lavish affair than they usually had; pancakes, some of the Kingdom’s latest delivery of fruit, fried eggs and mushrooms, as well as a pork chop each for him and Daryl. Their ‘butcher’ was still trying to figure bacon out but hey, it would more than do.

For all that alone, Rick knew that he owed Michonne his _life_ and it was not actually possible for him to love her any more than he already did.

Rick and Daryl couldn’t bring themselves to talk yet, they just shovelled their food and tried not to die as they listened to the usual breakfast chatter of Carl and Judith. Rick still couldn’t understand how he got so damn lucky.

One glance at Daryl sent sadness rushing through him. Rick had so badly wanted Daryl to have that, to know what it felt like. Fuck he could strangle that little prick! Next time he saw Jesus, there’d be trouble whether Daryl liked it or not.

Eventually they finished their food and just slumped in their chairs. Rick was content to stay in and do nothing all morning, he really was. However, when he said this aloud, his fantasy of a slow, easy morning was shattered.

“Don’t you and Tara have that overnight drop off and meeting at Hilltop today?”

Daryl froze like a damn deer before he thanked Michonne and muttered something about a shower, shuffling off as quick as his hungover ass would let him.

As soon as Daryl’s heavy footsteps could be heard going upstairs, Michonne rounded on Rick, eyes narrowed.

“I thought you were going to talk to him, not get shitfaced drunk with him.”

Rick wasn’t too proud to admit he shuffled in his seat under her gaze. “Yeah, an we did talk. Needed to get a few drinks in him first though or there’d have been no chance.”

“So? Is he okay? Is it what we thought?”

Rick sighed, stuck between not betraying Daryl’s trust and telling her. In the end he caved ever so slightly. “He’s not great right now and yeah, it’s what we thought.”

“Damn. What happened?”

“I don’t know for sure to be honest, you know what he’s like. But I do know it involves Aaron. And Jesus.”

When it clicked, Michonne’s face held the same expression that he was sure his had last night.

“What?! I though he was still mourning Eric? And he was one of the first to even see there was something between Daryl and Jesus. Are you sure?”

Rick just shrugged. “All I know is what he said. I’m surprised too honestly.”

Michonne looked sad, her beautiful face dropping into a frown. “What happens now then? Daryl’s obviously staying here but you’ve still gotta go today. Want me to come with?”

Rick smiled at the dangerous tone of her last question, taking hold of her calloused hand. “Somehow I still don’ think he’d take kindly to you beheading Jesus ‘Chonne.”

“Pity.”

Through all of their conversation, Carl had been silent, a frown on his face until he finally interrupted.

“Look, are we sure that’s what happened? It just seems like it came out of nowhere! Is he sure there hasn’t been a mistake or something? I was there two weeks ago and everything seemed fine! Just doesn’t seem like something Jesus would do.”

“I don’t know Carl, but Daryl’s observations are usually right.”

Carl reluctantly nodded but still looked unhappy about it, voice dejected. “Just wanted him to be happy is all. After everything.

Rick pulled him into a one armed hug, he knew how much Daryl meant to both of his kids and they obviously didn’t like to see him so fucking sad.

“Well, best get goin’ then. Can’t believe I forgot it was today.”

Michonne laughed at him, giving him a quick peck. “That’s what you get for raiding the alcohol supply. Will you keep your cool?”

Rick nodded. “Much as I’d like to break his nose, I value m’own bones unbroken. Can’t promise to be friendly though. And don’t mention it to Daryl okay? I think last night was enough feelin’ talk for the rest of the year for him.”

They nodded as Rick rose from his seat and headed upstairs to get ready for the trip. Just the _thought_ of driving on the ruined roads with his hangover made him want to die. The fucking things you do for family.

Rick didn’t catch sight of Daryl until he was about to leave the house and head to the car. He didn’t want to just leave without saying something or checking he was okay though, so Rick climbed up to the attic and knocked before entering.

Daryl was sprawled out on his mattress, one arm over his eyes and the other over his stomach, fingers idly playing with some sort of necklace he was holding.

“Daryl? I’m headin’ off now. Do ya, err, want anythin’ from Hilltop? Or to pass any messages along or somethin’?”

Daryl paused, fingers going still for long enough that Rick could see the necklace clearer, a simple silver chain with some kind of smooth blue-green stone at the end.

“Nah,” he grunted eventually. “‘M good.”

Rick sighed, but honestly he hadn’t really expected anything different, nor did he know what he’d have done if Daryl actually _did_ have a message to pass along.

“Alrigh’. Well don’ stay in here all day. If I’ve gotta drag my hungover ass all over then so do you.”

Daryl flipped him the bird as he left the room but otherwise, he didn’t move a muscle. Rick had a sick feeling in his stomach as he made his way out to the car, something in him hating to see Daryl like that again. When he’d been at Hilltop, it was like having the old Daryl back, the one from the prison’s glory days before it all fell to shit.

It took him a while, but Daryl had fully involved himself in the colony and though Rick wasn’t sure his friend had noticed, everyone there liked and appreciated him. He was always spoken highly of and for the first time in a long time, Rick saw that Daryl had found somewhere to belong.

He’d never been like that in Alexandria, not once. And now he was back, hiding in his dark little attic room alone, withdrawing back into himself again.

By the time he’d greeted Tara and got his ass in the car, quickly checking to see everything they needed to take was there, Rick had worked up quite the righteous anger.

Surprisingly, Tara didn’t ask a single question about Daryl or make any kind of comment on the matter. She obviously knew something, she wouldn’t have given up the last of her rum and told him to look after Daryl otherwise, but for once she was keeping her thoughts to herself.

Honestly, Rick was a little worried about what she’d do when she saw Jesus. Ever since he’d taken the surrendering Saviours as prisoners, the two of them had had a strained relationship. Jesus kept his head as always, often responding with reason or at a push, sharp sarcasm, but Tara never held back once. She’d eased up in recent months but there was always a chance Rick would have to hold her back once they reached Hilltop.

It was an easy journey by normal standards, no herds of walkers or problems on the road, but every bump and jostle made him hate alcohol more and more. They arrived in good time, the heavy gate opening for them as they drove in.

Rick hadn’t seen Hilltop in over a month and he was surprised at how much had changed. Maggie was a great leader, she’d really built something special and Rick was overflowing with pride as always.

He helped Tara offload their supplies on those that had gathered to help and soon their job was done. Tara clapped him on the back and gave him a _look_ before she headed off to see some friends. Rick moved towards Barrington, hoping to God she didn’t bump into Jesus without him there. He was halfway to the house when he spotted the man in question.

Jesus hadn’t seen him at first and it gave Rick time to really look him over. In all honestly, he looked _tired_ , utterly worn down and stressed in a way he hadn’t since the war. He was hardly the happy image of someone in a new relationship. Still, Rick was hard pressed to find any sympathy for him, not when he remembered how bad Daryl looked.

“Rick? Huh, I forgot you were visiting today.”

Jesus had noticed him at last, drawing up into his usual calm and collected self. Rick channeled Daryl for a second and just grunted, glaring at him as he walked. Jesus only hesitated for a second before walking in step with him.

“How was the trip?” He asked with a polite smile. “No problems I hope?”

“Fine.”

“Err, is D- I mean, have you come alone?”

“No.”

“Oh! Who is it then?”

He looked almost hopeful for a second, face brightening as he looked over his shoulder.

“Tara.”

Jesus’ face fell once again. “Oh, right. Look... is Daryl okay? He-”

Rick’s patience snapped. “Oh he’s jus’ _fine_ , no thanks to you! Now, do ya actually want somethin’ or can ya get outta my way?”

Jesus started at Rick’s ice cold tone and stopped walking. The last thing Rick saw before he entered Barrington was a barely hidden flash of hurt. Fuck him, the hell did he have to feel hurt about?

He was still angry when he knocked on Maggie’s door, though seeing her stood by the window holding Hershel did manage to ease some of that.

“Hi Maggie.” Rick went straight over with a smile and gave her cheek a kiss, gently stroking Hershel’s head. Even at this age he already looked so much like Glenn.

Maggie put Hershel down in his play pen and they moved to the couches to chat for a minute, just checking that both their communities were fine. Rick did notice however, that Maggie seemed to keep bitting her tongue, like she had something she wanted to say or ask but wouldn’t let herself.

“Is somethin’ the matter?” He finally asked her.

“Is Daryl here?”

Rick couldn’t help but notice that she asked with a _tone_ , a flinty and disapproving look in her eyes that confused him.

“Err, no he’s in Alexandria. Is there a problem with that?”

She tutted, a noise that seemed to come so naturally to mothers, voice sarcastic. “Oh no, not at all. Would just be nice for him to come tell me he’s leavin’ himself.”

“Wait, he didn’t tell you?”

The ice seemed to crack and Rick could clearly see she was annoyed. “No he didn’! Just ran off at first light! Had to hear it from Jesus later that night, once he finally came back from wherever the hell he went!”

Yeah Rick would put good money on where Jesus had been.

“And that’s another thing!” She’d obviously worked herself up into quite a fervour. “Whether he changed his mind or not, ain’ no reason to be such a mean shit to Jesus.”

Rick felt indignation rise up in him on behalf of his friend.

“Hang on a minute, it ain’t Daryl’s fault! It wasn’t his damn mind that changed! An how else is he meant to react when he finds out the guy he loves ended up gettin’ with his friend! He ran back to Alexandria like a bat out of hell an he’s fuckin’ miserable. I know Jesus is your friend but Daryl is family!”

Maggie seemed frozen in shock for a second, eyes wide and mouth open. “Wait, what the hell do you think happened?”

Rick scoffed. “What, Jesus didn’t tell ya? He broke Daryl’s heart! I had to get him piss drunk to even get a bit of the story out but Jesus seems to have decided he’s droppin’ Daryl for Aaron. Even after it finally seemed to be gettin’ somewhere! Honestl-”

“What the hell are ya talkin’ about?!” She interrupted. “That ain’t what happened! Hang on, is that what Daryl honestly thinks? That Jesus and Aaron are together?!”

The utter shock in her voice made Rick pause, righteous anger dying down and leaving him slightly confused. “Err, yeah. And he’s really broke up over it too.”

Maggie froze for a moment before bursting out laughing.

“Maggie! This is serious! I got a hungover, mopey Daryl in my attic makin’ my damn kids sad!”

“No, no, you don’t get it!” She managed to calm herself down, shushing Hershel who’d just started to wonder what all the noise was about.

“Rick listen, Jesus and Aaron aren’t together. Seriously, why the hell would they be? Aaron’s still mourning and Jesus has been hung up on Daryl since before the damn war!”

Rick was seriously confused. “But... Daryl seemed absolutely positive that they were!”

“No! Not in a million damn years! No wonder Jesus was such a mess, I bet he was so confused!”

Shit. Rick realised he may have been a dick for no reason, or at least not the reason he thought.

“Oh no Rick, I know that face. What?”

Rick shifted in his seat. “I may have been a bit short with him. But in fairness, I thought he’d fucked over my brother!”

Maggie groaned. “Rick! He’s heartbroken coz he thinks Daryl changed his mind an didn’ want him! He’d been so happy with how things were and then outta nowhere, Daryl completely changed and straight up said he was going back to Alexandria and didn’t need him anymore!”

It was Rick’s turn to groan then, he’d literally been kicking someone when they were down.

“How the hell did Daryl get so mixed up then?”

“No idea! I barely even know what happened at all! Jesus vanished after Daryl left and didn’t turn up till late that night. Honestly, if I hadn’t seen how he’d been acting recently, I wouldn’t even have known anything was wrong.”

She looked sad for a moment. “I forgot how good Jesus is at shutting everyone out. In the end he just said Daryl had left, that he was grateful for everything but didn’t need him anymore and wanted to go back to Alexandria. Then Jesus just headed off and no one’s really seen him more than in passin’ since.”

Maggie paused, voice quiet and guilty. “I really should have tried to seek him out more but I’ve been so busy and he’s impossible to find if he doesn’t want to be.”

Rick really felt like a dick then, at least Daryl was around his family.

“They’re both idiots.”

“Yep, it would seem so,” Maggie huffed out a laugh and rubbed her hands over her face. “Well obviously this needs sorting _now_. They’re both heartbroken for no reason!”

“Yeah it does. Where would Jesus be now?”

To his frustration, Maggie just shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. Unless I have anything specific for him to do, he just runs around helping with whatever needs doing. And since Daryl left he’s been impossible to pin down.”

She thought for a second, face clearing as an idea came to her. “Although, Aaron’s due to pick Hershel up in a minute for some time with Gracie, maybe he’ll know or can spread the word around.”

Rick just nodded, his brain totally overloaded with the whiplash from that whole conversation. Rick had always thought that between Jesus and Daryl, Jesus was the most rational when it came to feelings, but despite his cool and calm exterior, that obviously wasn’t exactly the case. Or at least he wasn’t when it came to Daryl.

Maggie seemed to be equally as despairing as she rubbed her forehead. The two of them sat in silence for a moment, mulling over what they’d found out. Eventually, they started talking business to pass the time, going over the things they were _actually_ meant to be discussing instead of Daryl and Jesus’ love life.

Not long later, a knock came at the door, Aaron entering and smiling as he saw Rick.

“Hi Rick! God it feels like forever since I saw you last. How’s Alexandria and everybody? I err, heard Daryl went back.”

Maggie and Rick just looked at each other before Maggie spoke.

“Look, there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding. Have you seen Jesus by any chance?”

Aaron looked sad before his shook his head. “No, he’s been vanishing the second anyone looks away. Only caught him by chance a few minutes ago. He looked pretty messed up before he noticed me.”

Fuck, Rick really owed Jesus an apology.

“Well that’s what this is about,” he said, trying to think of a delicate way to put it and coming up short. “I’m not really sure how to say this but... Daryl left because he thought you an Jesus got together.”

“ _What_?! Why would I?! And why on earth would he think that?!”

Aaron seemed hurt, shocked and in all honesty, offended at Rick’s statement. Rick couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief though, Daryl was obviously hugely mistaken thank God.

“Honestly, I ain’t sure. He just turned up at Alexandria all heartbroken and not knowing what to do with it. And I just found out Jesus thinks it was _Daryl_ who backed out, so he’s also hurt and sulking around. Course, I’d already been an asshole to him by then.”

Aaron winced. “What a mess. I bet Daryl hates me right now.”

Rick shook his head. Although he hadn’t said much, there would have been plenty of time to say something against Aaron and he never did.

“No, he don’t. I think he’s just hurt and confused is all, and just wanted outta the way.”

Aaron was silent as he thought for a moment, face pinched and concerned.

“I didn’t even notice it but I suppose me and Jesus _have_ been spending some time together. But we’re just friends, good friends I swear! It’s just...”

He trailed off, glancing at Maggie with a guilty look. “I know you understand how I feel right now, I really do. That’s why I couldn’t talk to you. You’ve got so much going on, you’re so strong despite what happened and I just didn’t want to be dragging you down with my grief when you need to handle your own.”

Maggie nodded, sad but understanding as she reached out to take Aaron’s hand when he finally sat on the couch.

“Jesus came to see if I needed anything and we just got talking. He’s a good guy. Helped me with anything I needed or just listened to me talk or cry or get angry. Then we just ended up as friends. I suppose, knowing what Daryl’s like, it might have looked like something else. Fuck I feel terrible.”

He looked so damn guilty that Rick couldn’t help but squeeze his shoulder.

“It ain’t your fault Aaron, you didn’t know,” Maggie tried to console him. “Now all we can do is find Jesus and get this sorted.”

Aaron nodded, looking determined as he stood up and collected Hershel out of his play pen. “Yeah, I’ll go looking now, spread the word around. As soon as someone sees him, they’ll send him here okay? Please, get this fixed. I’ve said it for months and seen it for longer. Those two match.”

He looked away from them then, face turned down to Hershel but not enough to hide his look of profound grief. “We don’t always get as long as we’d like with the people we love, a stupid misunderstanding shouldn’t stand in their way.”

Rick stood and clapped him on the back, Maggie pulling him into a hug as she said goodbye to Hershel. Then there was nothing to do but wait.

It was pushing late afternoon by the time a knock finally came at the door. Jesus entered at Maggie’s call, eyes flitting to Rick before becoming a calm mask. Maggie was right, he _was_ too good at that.

“Sit down Jesus, we need to talk.”

Jesus nodded at Maggie, sighing as he sank into the couch and looked between the two of them. “Why does it feel like I’m about to be court marshalled. Or executed.”

Despite his joking tone, Rick could tell there was an undercurrent of worry there.

“Well if you’d asked me that this morning, or hell, even a few hours ago, I’d have agreed.”

Jesus nodded, hands clenching in his lap.

“However, I owe you an apology. A big one.”

Jesus just looked confused then. “Err, what for?”

Rick sighed, leaning forward in his seat. “I was an asshole to you earlier and I’ve just found out it was for no reason. Look, we wouldn’t normally get involved, it ain’t our business, but there’s been a huge misunderstanding. With Daryl.”

As always, the mention of the other man’s name made Jesus start, attention doubling, a faint trace of hope on his face and in his voice. “So, what was it? Is it why he left?”

“Yeah it was. See, he was under the impression that, well. That you and Aaron were together.”

Jesus’ mask broke at last. “What?! Why the hell did he think that?! Of course we aren’t! I- just- _what_?!”

Maggie couldn’t seem to help but laugh at him, reaching out to grab his hand and make him look at her.

“Listen, we haven’t said anything coz it’s ya’lls business, but Daryl loves you and you love him. You seemed to be gettin’ there at your own pace but somehow, he started thinkin’ you an Aaron were a thing. That’s why he left.”

“Yeah, he’s hungover and heartbroken in my damn attic!” Rick interjected.

“So... he didn’t, you know, change his mind?”

Jesus seemed so different than what they were normally used to seeing; some strange mix of hopeful and cautious, voice soft and self conscious. It was like he wasn’t sure Daryl was fucking crazy about him. God they were both useless.

“Nah he didn’t, honest. I don’t know any more, I had to get him shitfaced before I could even get the outline of it. I just know he’s hurtin’ an there don’t seem to be any need for it. Right?”

“No, God no of course not! I can’t believe he thought that! Yeah me an Aaron have been spendin’ time together but I never thought it would seem that way! I lo-”

Jesus broke off, hands twisting in his lap. “Look, what I have to say I wanna say to Daryl okay? But I can promise this is all a misunderstanding. I’d never want to hurt him, not in a million years. Fuck, I need to go okay? I need to go to Alexandria.”

Jesus stood up, full of energy and movement like a damn live wire. He looked like he could run all the way to Alexandria in a second.

Rick chuckled at his eagerness. “Well I’m headin’ back to Alexandria in the morning. Is that ok-”

“No, no way. I’m not letting him think all of that for another night,” Jesus turned to Maggie, urgency obvious in every part of him. “Can I take a car, please? I’ll bring it back and Daryl too, if he wants to of course.”

Maggie laughed, standing up to pull him into a hug, voice soft and kind. “I’m sure he will Jesus. No doubt. Now go on, get outta here!”

Jesus smiled, so big and so overjoyed before he all but ran from the room, that Rick felt a swell of overwhelming happiness. It was stupid to ever worry, to even consider the possibility that Jesus was interested in anyone other than Daryl. His brother was gunna be fine. Daryl would finally get what he always wanted and, although he’d never think it, always deserved.

It was about damn time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS NOT THE END!
> 
> Fuck, I really struggled with writing from Rick’s point of veiw! Really sorry if it was shit! It was also bloody tough to write conversation between people who only have the barest idea what they’re talking about! Daryl and Jesus are both really private people who only said the bare minimum to their friends, so I hope it was okay. We’ll be back to detail and a full disclosure of what occurred in the last chapter!
> 
> Speaking of, as you can see, this is not the end! I’ve had to up the chapter count because I have no restraint whatsoever and apparently don’t understand how to write a short fic. So the last one will be up very soon my dears!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this and please do leave me a comment, I love hearing from you! Xxxx


	4. Chapter 4

Paul was a strong person, of that he was sure. He’d withstood a lot of pain in his life, both physical and emotional, and he always got through it. He was never one to blow his own horn, but he always had a deep confidence that he could handle anything thrown at him.

But the past few days had taught him something, shown him a kind of pain he’d never experienced before. _Heartbreak_.

Now that’s not to say his heart hadn’t taken a beating over the years because by God, it really had, but all of his emotional pain came from being abandoned and then lonely for pretty much all of his life. Though he couldn’t really blame anyone else for that last one; after a while Paul just found it easier, safer to be alone. If he kept to himself and didn’t let anyone close, then they couldn’t leave him. If he didn’t care, it wouldn’t hurt.

The last few days drove home in a wantonly cruel way, just why he’d always done that. But it was _Daryl_. Paul had tried so damn hard to keep him away but it was impossible, he’d been drawn to him from the very start. Then the more time they spent together, the more Daryl smiled at him or talked with him, when they fought together or relaxed together, the more Paul just existed in the same space as Daryl, the further he fell.

It was easier to think about it as he jumped in the closest car and headed off to Alexandria, knowing now why Daryl had left. But at the time? Fuck, that was a new level of pain Paul didn’t know it was possible to reach.

Paul had given in to his feelings at last, the very first night they both spent on their trailer roof after the war was over and he’d healed up, just staring at the stars. The moon was bright, illuminating Daryl in it’s soft silver glow and Paul just knew that he was it. Daryl was the person he wanted to stay with, wanted to be with. He wanted the good and the bad, wanted to spend whatever time he had left on this earth with him.

He looked at Daryl and thought, yeah, this was the one. Daryl was the one who would stay.

Really, Paul shouldn’t have been surprised when he left. Everyone always did. No one ever stayed.

In hindsight, if he’d just fought, if he’d just made Daryl stay and explain himself, then maybe they both wouldn’t have had days of pain. But as it was, hearing Daryl say he was leaving like it was the easiest thing in the world to him, like it meant nothing, like Paul meant nothing, it just made everything in him go cold. He threw up his walls quicker than he could even think, desperate to try and stave off the pain he knew would be coming, just long enough to get far away from anyone.

Paul had grabbed his knives and gear, sneaking out of Hilltop and into the surrounding woods. He couldn’t bare to watch Daryl pack, to sleep in the same trailer as him, to listen to his breathing and know he wouldn’t hear it again. Paul would never wake up from nightmares and roll over to see Daryl asleep nearby, just his very presence calming him.

And there was absolutely no way in hell Paul was strong enough to watch Daryl leave.

So he ran off, he hid, he took his feelings out on the odd walker he came across and the rest on the trees, practising kicks and punches and jumps till he ached. He spent the rest of the time just wandering, trying not to think of anything until night snuck up on him. Still he couldn’t bring himself to go back, to sleep somewhere in Hilltop that wasn’t his trailer. _Their_ trailer.

Instead, he climbed a tree and strapped himself to a thick branch far up. It wasn’t comfortable but he’d done it plenty of times, the cold and the rough texture of the bark familiar to him.

As the sun finally set, all noises settling but those of the night animals, Paul’s thoughts finally caught up with him. His chest closed up, mind getting lost in a vicious circle, tearing itself apart as he tried to figure out what went wrong, what he’d done.

Why he wasn’t _enough_.

He should have been used to that by now, he certainly had enough experience with it. After a childhood of being abandoned, alone, not good enough, Paul would have thought he’d learned his lesson.

His first memories were happy, he had that much at least. His family was never wealthy but their little apartment in the bad side of town was filled with love. Paul only had vague images of his father, nothing really about how he looked, no face to a name, but he remembered feeling safe in his arms; warm and loved. He was the light of Paul’s mother’s life.

When a drunk driver struck him down, that light went out and Paul’s mom was never the same again. He tried so hard to be what she needed, to fix her somehow. Little Paul couldn’t understand why he wasn’t enough to stop her crying, to make her get out of bed and eat. Why he wasn’t enough to stop her putting things in her arms that made her go away, made her forget him.

There was a party one night with some of his mother’s scary new friends, the ones who were loud and unpredictable, who shoved him out of the way or laughed when they scared him. Paul hid himself away as usual until things got quiet again, finally heading into the kitchen to try and find some food.

He thought his mom was sleeping at first, sprawled out on the couch with her horrible medicine next to her, nothing new after one of her parties. But when he went over to see if she wanted anything, Paul knew something was wrong. She was pale, too pale and wouldn’t answer, not even when he poked her and shook her, shouting for her to get up.

It all got a little fuzzy after that. Paul ran and pounded on the door of the only decent neighbour they had, a sweet old lady who always made sure to check up on him. She held his hand and calmed him down, told him people were coming who could help his mom. She stayed with him until the people came and took his mom away, gently prodding him into the back of the noisy van so he could go too.

Paul wasn’t allowed to see her for ages; he was stuck with cold plastic seats in a room full of toys he’d never seen before, toys he’d usually love to play with but couldn’t even imagine picking up then. When he was finally allowed to see her, she just cried.

There were other people in the room, people in smart clothes with stern faces. His mom pulled him close and held him for the first time since his dad died just over a year before. Paul was so happy, hoping it meant that his mom was back, that they’d go back to the way they always were before, even if his dad wasn’t there anymore.

He was wrong. She kissed him, crying the whole time and told him to go with the nice people, that he’d have a better life, undoing her necklace and putting it on him instead. Paul was confused, he didn’t understand what was happening but he went, the stern people taking him away, his mom’s echoing sobs ringing in his ears as he clutched tight to the blue stone around his neck.

Paul never saw her again. Found out years later that she’d died a week after that. Drug overdose. Probably suicide.

Growing up in a group home, his especially, often felt like being trapped with a pack of dogs. Everyone was out to get each other and there were strange hierarchies that it took him a while to figure out. Once he did, he realised he was right at the bottom.

For a long time, Paul was sure his mother would come for him, surely she’d just forgotten about him like she often did. The other boys were very quick to cruelly correct him. She wasn’t coming back. She’d left him, given him up. Handing him off to someone else like unwanted clothes.

After that, Paul tried everything to prove he could be loved, that someone would want him, would keep him. Though it wasn’t often, they did get couples looking to adopt or foster and Paul wanted it to be him. As he got older, he started developing ways of changing himself, trying to figure out what it was that they wanted and adopting that personality. It never worked.

Well, it almost did, just once.

Sandra and Leon had been the ideal potential adoptive parents. They were an older couple whose only child died when he was two and they never wanted to try again, the pain and fear too much for them. But twenty years later, they finally decided they were ready, choosing to adopt instead to give a child a chance at a loving home. Lonely parents for a lonely child.

They were _perfect_.

For the first time in a long time, Paul tried to be himself and for a while, it really seemed to have worked. They visited often and with every conversation, every meeting, Paul wanted them even more. He wanted to go home with them, to be cared for by them, to not have to live in that horrible cold building with boys who bullied him mercilessly. He wanted to be loved.

Paul never saw them again. He found out a month later that they’d adopted another kid instead. They never even said goodbye.

Paul never tried again after that, he wore his solitude like armour and refused to ever get attached again. It just hurt too much when they left him.

The next few years were hell; he was lonely, bullied and angry. The older boys hated him, sensing he was different or easy pickings and it was rare to go a day without some form of verbal or physical abuse. Paul took it all until the day he was pushed down the stairs and woke up in hospital with a broken leg, broken collarbone, a concussion and a deep, stitched gash on his hairline.

When one of the home’s social workers came to see him, Paul told her everything, exactly who’d done it and for how long they’d been tormenting him. The haggard woman simply told him that if he ‘toned it down’, maybe they wouldn’t target him so much. Nothing was ever done about it, the home was loath to put unsavoury things like that in their records.

That was the last time Paul ever trusted someone else to help him. Once he’d left the hospital and healed fully, he found the closest free martial arts lessons and attended them religiously. He went for months and months, falling in love with it completely. He trained and practised until he ached, going to bed every night and fantasising about the day he’d show all of his bullies exactly what he could do. Paul wanted to demolish them, to humiliate them, to make them scream and bleed and cry. He wanted to dish out every bit of the suffering they’d put him through tenfold.

But after a while, Paul found himself wanting that less and less. The more he learned, the better he got, the less he wanted to hurt them. It was more about knowing that he could and that was enough.

Paul did get to show them eventually though, but it wasn’t for his own vengeance, it was to defend someone else. He came across his tormentors ganging up on a new kid; a small, scared boy who reminded Paul so much of himself. The kids at the group home all developed an every man for himself type mindset but as he watched the young boy get tormented, pushed and humiliated, Paul knew he couldn’t just walk off. Just because nobody ever helped him, didn’t mean he had to do the same. He could be _better_.

Paul walked over and demanded they left the new boy alone. The gang just laughed and turned on him instead, always happy to give ‘the little queer’ a beating. It was the last time they’d ever try it.

Paul just breathed, drew on the new strength at his centre and stood his ground. Instead of the vicious revenge he’d always dreamed of; the sound of screams and bones breaking, tears and snot and blood running down their faces as they begged for mercy, instead of hurting them he just defended. Tiny little fifteen year old Paul blocked every punch, avoided every kick and simply pushed them back, delivering the odd humiliating smack around the ears.

He wasn’t a saint though, he couldn’t help but enjoy their looks of confusion as they realised they couldn’t get to him anymore, couldn’t even touch him. When they eventually retreated, throwing vicious words over their shoulder to cover their embarrassment, Paul expected to feel triumphant, vindicated. Instead, he just felt calm. It was better than any of his daydreams.

For the three years he had left at the home before he aged out, Paul never turned his back on anyone being bullied. He perfected the art of staying involved enough to help, but separate enough to detach himself whenever he liked, to avoid any pain when they left him too. This little trick set him up for life. Until years into the end of the world when he stumbled upon too men who looked like trouble. Until Daryl.

As Paul sped along from Hilltop to Alexandria, he couldn’t help but berate himself, but unlike the past couple of days, it wasn’t about letting himself get attached. Instead, it was about ever letting go.

He should have fought harder, should have made Daryl stay and at least explain properly why he was leaving. Fuck, he should have opened his damn mouth and actually told Daryl what he was feeling, made sure they both really were on the same page. If he hadn’t been such a coward, they wouldn’t even have had this misunderstanding. All he could hope for was a chance, hope that Maggie and Rick were right.

Paul had travelled between Hilltop and Alexandria more times than he could count, but never had it seemed to take so damn long. Why was it that distance always seemed to double the more you wanted to get somewhere?

As the road seemed to go on and on, Paul’s nerves wouldn’t leave him alone, stomach twisting as he thought over the many ways this could go down. In all honesty, he had no plan, no strategy, no idea of what he would say or do. That in and of itself, was new for him.

Paul loved words, he loved the power of them; the way they could hurt or heal, the way he could use them to run circles around someone, to subtly bend them to his way of thinking, to phrase something in just the right way that it was accepted. But for all his love of them, he didn’t know the right ones for this situation.

Maybe there were no right ones. Maybe they just had to be honest ones.

And wasn’t that just a fucking terrifying thought.

After driving for what felt like a good few years, Paul finally started coming up to Alexandria, the newly enforced gates standing tall and proud in front of him.

Daryl was somewhere in there.

His heart started pounding, fingers clenching on the wheel as his stomach flipped over. Paul stopped at the gate, verifying himself to the guard before the gate finally opened and he drove in, running through all kinds of breathing techniques to try and calm the fuck down.

He parked the car and forced himself to move, to get out and find Daryl. Now that he was finally there, so close to Daryl he could practically sense it, Paul found himself frozen. After cursing every second of the journey from Hilltop, it suddenly felt like it took too little time. He wanted to run, he wanted to hide away and not risk it, not chance letting someone in. No matter how much he wanted to.

But that exact reason was why the two of them were in this mess. Paul liked to think he wasn’t a coward but that’s exactly what he’d been. He took advantage of the easy understanding the two of them had, the way it seemed to be moving forward without the need to put his feelings, his hopes, into words. It was easier. Plausible deniability if things went bad.

And because he was too chicken shit to figure out a way to tell Daryl how he felt, it was all too easy for the other man to get mixed up and come to the conclusion that he did.

If for no other reason than putting those thoughts to rest, Paul had to try.

Rick said Daryl had been staying at his house, so that’s where he’d try first. Walking through Alexandria felt like running the gauntlet of people who wanted to knife him. Logically Paul knew Daryl would literally rather die than spread any gossip around, or even talk about it at all, but the paranoid part of him couldn’t help but think everyone was staring at him. Daryl never seemed to realise just how highly people thought of him, not just in Hilltop but in Alexandria too.

Paul turned a corner and finally, he saw Rick’s house.

Then he saw Daryl.

The breath was punched out of him as he watched Daryl; he was sat on the front porch doing some maintenance work on his bow, little Judith playing with blocks next to him. Paul’s heart was in his throat as he watched Daryl lean down and say something to her, the little girl reaching over to the pile of tools next to her and handing him what he’d asked for, her face lighting up when he thanked her.

God, Paul loved him.

He loved everything about him, from his rough exterior to his gentle, kind heart. He loved their conversations, big or small, loved Daryl’s unique perspective on things. He loved the way he looked, like the world had chewed him up and spat him out stronger, like he could take anything it threw at him. Fuck, Paul just loved _him_.

Damn the fear, damn his worries, damn not having the right words, Paul just needed him and nothing would keep him away. He would fight for Daryl, would cut himself open and let all the twisted, bruised, unpolished words fall out and hope that the other man knew them for what they were. Honest words, true words.

He stalked forward with purpose, Daryl hadn’t seen him yet, still listening to Judith chat with a small smile on his tired looking face. Michonne however, had seen him.

She came from the side, stepping in front of him to stop him in his tracks. He was half expecting another angry tirade like Rick had unleashed on him. Instead, she just looked at him, eyes narrowing like she was trying to figure him out.

“What do you want Jesus?”

Paul heard a clatter on the porch, wooden boards creaking as he assumed Daryl stood up. He looked at Michonne, not caring one bit if it was obvious how desperate he was to get to Daryl.

“Look, I just want to talk to Daryl okay? I know what it’s seemed like but I swear, it’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

She looked him up and down, her intense gaze pinning him where he stood.

“Please, I have to talk to him.”

Paul knew she wouldn’t try to stop him, but he was fully prepared to force his way past if needs be. The only thing that would make him leave would be Daryl himself. Thankfully, Michonne just nodded, her face softening slightly.

“Get this sorted Jesus. I’d hate to have to behead you.”

She clapped him on the arm as relief flooded through him. Paul shot her a grateful smile, staying where he was as she stepped towards the house and called Judith to her. The little girl tugged on Daryl’s hand till he bent down, pressing a kiss to his cheek before running to Michonne.

Then it was just Paul and Daryl staring at each other, the ten steps between them feeling like no man’s land.

Paul’s heart was pounding in his chest, watching as Daryl fidgeted and shuffled where he stood. Paul knew he’d have to speak first, stepping forward slowly.

“Daryl. Can I come in? We need to talk okay, I need to explain what happened.”

Daryl looked away, eyeing the floor instead. “Don’t gotta explain nothin’. Ain’t stupid.”

Paul stepped forward again, voice urgent. “No, you don’t get it. There’s been a misunderstanding okay? I need to put it right and I’m fully prepared to stand here and shout it at you but since we aren’t in a John Hughes movie, I’d really rather not.”

Daryl said nothing, Paul’s heart plummeting to the floor, but finally he looked up.

“Don’t know who the fuck that is anyway. Fine, come in.”

Daryl didn’t wait for Paul, just walked into the house, so he hurried to follow, more nervous than he’d ever been before in his life. But also more determined and resolute.

Paul entered the house, Daryl skipping the living room and heading straight to the kitchen, hovering about like he wasn’t quite sure where to stand or what to do. Paul felt exactly the same, he was just much better at hiding it.

They were silent for a few minutes, the air between them tense and awkward in ways it’d never been before. Paul hated it, hated the way the uncertainty stuck to their skin and threw off the natural ease they’d long had with each other. It was horrible. But Paul couldn’t open his mouth, couldn’t form words just yet, too busy watching Daryl, trying to figure out what he was thinking and feeling.

Daryl could hardly stop moving it seemed; fingers fidgeting like they wished they could hold a cigarette just to do something, he was breathing quicker than normal too, like he was nervous, feet shuffling like he wanted to pace around but didn’t want to give away how off kilter he was.

Yet they both didn’t speak, didn’t do anything. Once they did, once one of them started to explain, to speak the truth, it could never be undone or unknown. As much hope as Paul had that Daryl felt the same way and would want something with him, there was always that chance that he wouldn’t, that Paul would just be knocking down his own walls and carving out his heart for nothing. In this state of silence, there was always possibility. Once that silence was broken, there would only be fact, one way or the other.

But all silence must eventually be broken.

“Daryl I-“

“You wanna drink?”

Paul let Daryl interrupt him, nodding instead at the pile of empty bottles in a box on the side.

“Think you might’ve drank enough for both of us actually.”

“Fuck you.”

For a brief second, it was like nothing had changed, both of them giving each other shit. Then Daryl’s tiny grin fell and he looked away from Paul.

“So you err, you ran into Rick then.”

It wasn’t a question but Paul nodded anyway. “Yeah, that’s one word for it,” he answered dryly.

“Asshole. Told him not to say or do nothin’.”

Daryl’s voice was small, unsure, shy even. Paul hated it.

“Hey,” he said gently, stepping closer to Daryl. “He didn’t say anything, not really. He wouldn’t betray your trust like that.”

Paul could see Daryl’s relief, body relaxing just a fraction and actually meeting his eye. Well, here goes.

“Look, I’m terrible at this okay? I don’t know what to say or how to say it but I just have to try,” Paul took a deep breath, heart coming out of his chest, Daryl looking just as nervous as his eyes moved to the floor again, the tension in the air almost palpable.

“So, after a few choice words to me and a chat with Maggie, Rick did end up saying something. He wouldn’t have if it wasn’t important okay? But, he seemed to think you were under the impression that me and Aaron were together.”

Daryl’s head shot up, eyes wide. “But, you are ain’t ya? ‘M not blind.”

“No! No we’re not Daryl, I swear. Why would we be?”

Daryl just looked confused. “You been spendin’ so much time together though. An’ I saw ya together with Gracie! You-” he broke off, looking away and muttering, “you looked happy. Both of ya.”

Oh Daryl.

“Not as happy as I am with you.”

The words left his mouth without him even thinking about it, but they were all the truer for it. Paul was happier with Daryl than he was with anyone else. Hell, more than he’d been with anyone in his life. He’d known funnier people, louder people, more entertaining people with amazing stories about what they’d done and where they’d been. He’d certainly known people with a better fucking attitude. But nobody ever had or ever could hold a candle to Daryl.

“But-”

Paul shook his head. “No, you listen to me now Daryl okay? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this happened. I was a coward. And because of that you got hurt and I got hurt because I thought you left for a totally different reason and it’s all a fucking mess.”

He took a second to catch his breath, words coming out fast and awkward in ways they never usually did. Daryl was silent, stood as still and alert as he was when he hunted. But he still looked confused and hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he believed what he was hearing. Or far more likely, that he didn’t want to chance it, not again.

“Everyone thinks I’m good at this you know?” Paul began quietly. “Talking and feelings. I know I always put that impression out there but honestly, with this? I’m completely lost. I don’t know how to tell someone I really... really care about them, not with words anyway. It’s hard enough with Maggie. But _you?_  Well, that’s in a whole different league.”

He shot Daryl a shy smile, hoping any of this was going in.

“When things started to change with us, when things seemed to be moving forward... it just felt so easy, so natural. I just didn’t have the words to say what I wanted or felt and I guess I took advantage of the fact that you didn’t seem to either. I made the mistake of assuming we both knew what was going on, both wanted the same thing but didn’t need to fucking talk about it. And because of that it was all too easy for both of us to jump to conclusions and run away.”

That seemed to jolt Daryl, his eyes narrowing as life flooded his body again.

“I didn’ run away, I was givin’ you space!” he growled, colour in his cheeks, whether from annoyance or embarrassment, Paul wasn’t sure.

“Looked like you an’ Aaron was a new thing an’ I was just... gettin’ outta ya way or whatever. Didn’ wanna turn into a mean shit.”

Paul was silent, heart softening at the thought of Daryl, feeling hurt and rejected, choosing to leave so he wouldn’t be in the way or turn nasty. Despite showing it in incredibly clumsy ways sometimes, Daryl really did have a good, kind heart.

“An’ anyways,” he began again, voice and movements full of frustration and emotion. “Why’d ya not say nothin’ when I told you I was leavin’? Ya could’a asked me to stay or even fuckin’ asked why I was goin’! Not just send me on my way an’ fuck off somewhere!”

Daryl was right, he was absolutely right, Paul could have done any of those things. Should have.

“You know as well as I do that we’re all products of our upbringing.”

Daryl stopped moving around, tilting his head at Paul instead. Paul sighed in frustration, hating how he couldn’t figure out a way to just fucking explain everything.

“Everybody has ways of reacting, ways of dealing with things that are usually shaped by how we grew up. And if... if you’ve had a less than stellar childhood, those things aren’t usually healthy or helpful. But they’re just so ingrained in us that it’s hard not to slip into them when things happen.”

Paul could see the understanding in Daryl’s eyes, the other man knowing that all too well.

“Look, I’m going to be totally honest with you. I’m shit scared of lo- of caring about someone because I just can’t get it out of my head that they’re gonna... leave me.”

Paul didn’t just sound small, he felt small. Like that scared little kid who got left all alone had spoken instead of him.

“I don’t say it, never have. Don’t wanna be manipulative or guilt someone into staying. But I’ve been left so many times that I just don’t bother getting close to anyone. Haven’t since I was a kid. Doesn’t hurt so much when they leave or I do.”

He looked up at Daryl, willing him to understand.

“But then you came along and I just couldn’t do that, couldn’t seem to hold you at arms length. So when you told me you were leaving, like it was so _easy_ for you, I just fell back into that habit. I didn’t try and find out why because I just wanted to get as far away as I fucking could so you wouldn’t see how much it killed me.”

Paul felt raw, like all his carefully hidden nerves were being torn out and left in the open. It was horrible and painful and frightening.

It was freeing.

Daryl looked much the same, almost holding his breath. The universe stilled, no one in it but the two of them looking at each other, hoping one would bridge the gap. Both knowing that once they did, there would be no going back.

This was it. This could be the start of everything.

They’d both stepped closer, without even realising it. Only a few short steps away from each other. Paul let his eyes roam over Daryl, greedy for all of him, wanting him mind, body and soul. Paul knew he could look at Daryl, talk to him, just be near him every day for the rest of his life and never get sick of it, never want to stop.

Daryl was the book Paul never wanted to finish. A never ending story.

And he wanted him to know.

“Daryl, when... when I got hurt, when I was sure I was dying, I should have been content with it.”

He saw Daryl flinch, the memory never a good one for him. He’d admitted as much one night after waking from a nightmare, shaking and pale. He told Paul that he’d dreamt of that day, dreamt that he’d died instead.

“Look,” Paul began, voice quiet. “I’ve never been scared of dying, not really. Never had anyone who’d miss me anyway and nothing I was sticking around for. Certainly helped when the world went to shit. I was always happy to go on all the runs because if I succeeded, my community had the things they needed to keep going a little longer. And if I didn’t, well, that’d be that. Nobody would mourn me and eventually someone else would take up the job.”

Daryl opened his mouth to interrupt, an unhappy frown on his face, but Paul charged ahead, knowing if he stopped, it’d be too hard to start again.

“When I was lying there, I thought I’d be okay, that I’d just let go. I saved Maggie, I helped where I could and if that was my time to go then okay. But then I wasn’t! I wasn’t okay to go! All I wanted was to see you again, to hold on. I wanted to live!”

He stepped forward on shaking legs, unable to look away from Daryl.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of dying before I told you that... I love you.”

Paul stopped breathing as his words seemed to physically hit Daryl, his eyes wide, a little noise escaping him

“Dya-” Daryl cleared his throat, voice rough. “Dya mean it?”

He sounded so unsure, so hesitant. Like he wanted to believe it but wasn’t sure he’d heard it right. But he also sounded hopeful.

“Yes!” Paul choked out, not caring if he sounded desperate as he finally closed the gap between them, the two of them so close Paul could feel the heat Daryl always gave out. He reached out and touched Daryl’s hand where it hung by his side. Daryl twitched it away at first, Paul fully prepared to back off, but he quickly grabbed Paul’s hand before he could.

Paul loved Daryl’s hands; they were strong hands, warm and rough. They felt like safety. He gripped it tight.

“Yeah, yeah I mean it. So much. Never said that before to anyone and... I don’t want to say it to anyone else. I want to be with you Daryl, for as long as I can. As long as you’ll let me.”

Daryl let out a quiet, desperate little whine. Nothing else happened for a moment as they both breathed, Paul’s heart beating so fast he was worried it’d explode. Surely no one could survive this many emotions rushing through them.

Then Daryl’s other hand touched his arm; slowly, jerkily, it moved up his shoulder until it rested on his neck. A shiver ran through him as Daryl then cupped the back of his head, Paul’s eyes closing against his will at the feel of it. Like he was centred with the earth for the first time, present and connected to everything.

He felt a gentle tug forwards, leaning towards Daryl on instinct. He expected a kiss, but in the end it turned out to be something far better. Daryl’s other hand let go of Paul’s, sliding around his back to pull him flat against Daryl’s warm chest. Paul did the same, holding Daryl tight in his arms and burying his face in the grove between his neck and shoulder. It was perfect.

There would be more to talk about yet, of that Paul was sure. They would need to put any other misunderstandings to bed and talk more about themselves and what they wanted.

And more than anything, Paul wanted to tell Daryl about the necklace he could still see hanging around his neck. He’d tell him it was his mom’s, that his father made it for her, that it was the only real possession Paul ever had. It wasn’t just something he’d gifted him for Daryl’s nervous hands to fiddle with when he was anxious or to ground him when his nightmares woke him up. It was the only way Paul could tell him he loved him before he had the words for it.

Yes, there would be more to say, but as they both stood together, fingers and arms holding each other tight as they breathed the same air and tried to calm their shaking, Paul knew it’d be okay. It’d be right because _they_ were right.

“So you’ll come back to Hilltop then?” He couldn’t help but breath out, just needing to know. “To the trailer?”

He felt Daryl nod against him. “Yeah. ‘S where I belong ain’t it? Both of us. Together”

_Oh_. So that’s what it felt like. Something in Paul settled for the first time in his life, the jagged broken piece of him that had been searching for this very feeling finally healed.

This was what love felt like. His past was behind him now, the whole world in front. And he wouldn’t be walking it alone.

Paul Rovia had finally found his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS! HOLY FUCK I’M SORRY FOR THE DELAY! Okay so, i’d nearly finished this bloody chapter about a week ago when my fucking comp packed it in and I LOST THE WHOLE DAMN THING! Then I was too pissed off to touch it for a little while. Urgh! But here we are, we live and learn.
> 
> I really hope you all like the ending of this colossal fuck up between too idiots. Let me know if you did, comments make my life, and thank you so much for reading :) xxxx

**Author's Note:**

> The ever delightful drcloyd asked for Desus and misunderstanding so here I am, humbly offering my response. Sorry for the delay! The last two chapter will be up in the next few days :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy, please drop me a comment because it makes both me and my three pugs very happy. And you’d always want to make a pug happy right?? xxxx


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